Precariousness
by Yaoi flame
Summary: The time unfroze when the tree met again. They have grown to be young adults, anxious about the future and transience. In the crazy mixture of happiness and sadness, there is a little rip that allowed some of them to be honest with themselves and others. Mugen x Fuu


**Disclaimer: ** I do not own anything related to Samurai Champloo, nor Samurai Champloo itself. However, I do own this story.

**Type: **One shot

**Pairing:** Mugen/ Fuu

**Genre:** Romance/ Friendship

**Rating:** M to be safe

This is about what could potentially happen if and when they reunited. Reviews would be much appreciated.

* * *

**Precariousness**

In the years to come, he would become even more of a bitter adult than he used to be. At twenty-five, he thought he had already seen it so many times, his surroundings, the circumstances, and could read people pretty easily. His fighting style was as erratic as ever, nothing really changed in any aspect, except for the fact that he had reviewed all that he had previously known and was now more like an old wise man, than the young adult he was supposed to be.

Everything had received that gray nuance of decadence, Edo period being westernized as it was; he hated changes. He was both lonely and alone. He often pondered the meaning of Jin's words, that he had found his first friends, in Fuu and him. But they hadn't seen or heard of each other for years now. Loneliness had become tangible these days, on whose breasts he slept. Sometimes, when he was unable to sleep, though it rarely occurred that he couldn't, he liked to recall all the adventures they had gone through together, and often wondered how Jin looked like now, if he still sported his glasses, if he was still alive, if he had found a girl for himself; did Fuu grow into a beautiful woman? She would be twenty-one now, if she was alive. Did her breasts grow big the way he liked? Did she gain her sex appeal; perhaps had a family of her own, and a caring husband? Or a drunkard of a husband?

Everything seemed to be going in the general direction of hell in his opinion; society, friendships, love, families. He felt alone and isolated. His life hadn't particularly changed, except for the two of them not being in it, and he was as brooding as ever. But the world around him changed; he had learned there were no absolutes except death. Everything was fleeting, transient, every balance precarious, no steady course. Not that he cared much, since he himself always wondered whether he would get to see another day, but for some reason, the sight of the world in general saddened him a bit.

On that particular day, he ran into Jin, and shortly after, they ran into Fuu. It was their first reunion after six years, and despite them bickering as always, they came to agreement to spend some time together. Jin hadn't changed much in any regard, to his utter surprise. It was as if time had stopped. However, this didn't make him less mature, on the contrary. He had probably gained even more experience, but was keeping his wisdom to himself. Fuu, on the other hand, indeed was a beauty now. She had never been ugly, in fact, it was just that her beauty became more emphasized now that she had grown. To his utter disappointment, her breasts hadn't grown much since he last saw her and he pointed that out to her. With that, their playful bickering continued, and he was relieved that nothing had changed much. Jin was, as always, disapproving of his way of joking at the first glance, Fuu was enraged and liked hitting him hard on the head, but they were all laughing in the end. It was something they had never done together before. It looked natural on Fuu, whereas it was a bit awkward seeing Jin laughing at all, but in a way it also seemed natural.

At the end of the day, lying in his warm, comfortable futon, relishing in that comfort he rarely could afford, he recapitulated in his head their joyful reunion (although no one would admit it out loud, that it was indeed joyful for all of them), and thought to himself how relieved he felt now, all loved and appreciated, though in a roundabout way. It was the first time he allowed such thought to form in his head and his feelings to flow freely throughout him, recognized and acknowledged by their wielder. He smiled tenderly against his forearm, and drifted off to sleep.

Fuu. He gave her a lot of thought the next day. He never thought so hard about anything before, just kept everything pent up, since it was his way of surviving things—relying on instincts and not thinking at all. She was to join them at the teahouse, after she had done some business she'd said she had to attend to. Jin and he were keeping company to each other, engulfed in friendly animosity they harbored for each other.

Enveloped in silence, he was in deep contemplation about everything. How Jin's face showed his sadness whenever he looked at him. It was evident on both their faces that life had toughened them up. Jin and his code of honor, his cruelty, his disposition. And he, the unrefined bastard. But what about Fuu? Though most of the time he found her annoying, her cheerful countenance, her jumpiness, her whining, she was also endearing to him. Otherwise, there would be no way he could put up with her for so long, going on a journey toward a vague goal, uncertain of what he was supposed to do. In truth, she had been carrying the deepest sadness unknown to both men, since they had always been orphans, and never wanted to burden them. It had been a planned vagueness from the start. Her plea to be helped since she couldn't convey her plan all alone, but still made it fun and enjoying in her own way. Masking it so skillfully to look like she had been conning them in a way, yet the situation had always been rather grave.

Such things took so much time and effort, and she had been laughing it all off, doing most of the things by herself, and at the very end, been conscientious enough to let them go, yet they followed her anyway. Mugen knew for so long that the words and some actions sometimes didn't reflect the feelings inside. Then they had all parted on a friendly note six years prior.

Sometimes he wondered who had she mostly relied on? Jin or him? She had cried that night in the samurai's arms. Afraid of the day to come and of parting. But she had also chosen Jin to go with that woman, not him. Though regretting that decision later, she had given up Jin first, not him. And there she came, in her bright yukata, her hair tied back, supported by the pins of the matching color, and smiled at them. His train of thought was interrupted, and he was pretending he was listening to this polite exchange between Jin and her. Which reminded him of their superiority over him, in both being refined and in literacy. But it didn't matter much now, since he had become literate at least…and unusually quiet.

She made sure to point that out, and he was forced into the conversation, finding himself at loss for words. She was a woman now, a beautiful woman, at that. In her own way, at least. Stunned by her radiance, he realized she had never told them what had become of the Sunflower Samurai. They had pretty much guessed he had died, but what kind of death, they had no clue not even now. They also knew nothing about their reunion. And exactly in that lay all her beauty and grace. In comparison to her, they had always been whining, spoiled brats.

"What's wrong, Mugen?" she asked. "Why are you so quiet tonight? Why can't you show just a little bit you're glad that you see us again?" there she was. Eternally unsatisfied, he thought. And so he moved on, throwing some poisonous words in her direction since he knew she wouldn't take them seriously. Deep down it showed the level of understanding the three of them shared. Beneath layers of meaning, they loved each other devotedly. Although wounded, he had been looking for the bespectacled man all over the place, afraid that he had drowned. And oh how she'd wept in relief when both of them were finally safe and sound. He recalled that vividly. Fuu at his side, calling out to him. Always reaching for him. Always reaching for him first.

He also wondered about the nature of his feelings for her. So much wondering he had done lately. Had it been brotherly love through and through? But it didn't seem like that now. How did Jin feel about her now? Had always looked as if he was taking care of his younger sister rather than anything else. He hoped it was so.

* * *

Later that evening, after tucking in the young woman, ever the acute observer Jin asked him, " You have feelings for her, don't you?" it had taken Mugen long enough to realize this. He had drastically changed. But he said nothing.

As the days passed, he was becoming more and more flustered when around her. She was more mature now, more graceful and refined. He imagined holding her and was afraid he would crush her frail frame. But he knew full well Fuu was the toughest woman out there. Her spirit of steel refused to bend, and so was her body that could take up so much food. He had become proud of her when their journey started to reach its end. He felt so undeserving. Too much of a lowlife for her.

"Haven't you asked her if she had someone? Though I doubt it. Otherwise, she would have stopped being the traveler long ago." Jin said. "Don't you think she would find it odd you not talking to her at all these days? Why don't you just confess your feelings? Otherwise your silence will be taken the wrong way and you might never see her again."

"Always the wise one, I see." Mugen replied. "The smooth talker." he snorted. She was too precious for him to take his chances and perhaps ruin this friendship they had.

"You will never know unless you try." there had always been some kind of connection between the two of them. Some tacit understanding between two males. " She is more mature than she used to be. She won't be grossed out at your proposal, if you tell her nicely."

And so he did. He took her that evening outside, after the dinner, and confessed in a stuttering, barely audible voice. Fuu was facing him under the dim light of the moon; the sky was getting overcast. Before he realized it himself, Mugen was holding his breath, staring at her as if she would disappear if he even blinked. What if, with this, he ruined this good image about himself he had barely sustained in her much appreciated opinion? So he was quick to add, "B-but wait a minute, it's not _that_ serious, like, you're not a marrying material or anything, and who knows if this isn't just something I made up, got it mixed up and wrong…" and he carried on rambling like this until she slapped him across the mouth.

"Well that's enough of it, you fool." she exclaimed, concealing her laughter behind the sleeve. He was being made fun of, no less! As if he had been frozen in time, standing motionless like that, he slowly moved backwards, regaining his composure.

"I see. Sorry for bothering you." he was about to turn and leave, but she caught his sleeve.

"Mugen, wait! That's not what I wanted to say." she said, flustered.

That was the first time he was unsure how to initiate things. He placed his lips warily on hers, kissed her slowly, tenderly, treating her like a precious snowflake. She gradually melted into his touch. Her face seemed so small, supported by his two large, calloused palms. Fuu was unusually quiet, but that silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was intimidating in a way, but still bearable. They swiftly moved to her room and he made love to her wordlessly, slowly and thoroughly. He seemed very hesitant in everything he did, afraid anything about him would be repulsing to Fuu. This sudden surge of emotions left him flabbergasted, as well as her unexpected consent. Like an unripe fruit, their feelings had been about to bloom into a different kind of love, but the parting had frozen them up until now. Now it bloomed and sprouted slowly, but progressively. He was unsure whether he would see her again after this, whether they would go separate ways again, but didn't make love to her frantically as he should have, in situations like this one. He took his time examining her body, kissing every nook he could reach, burying himself slow and deep, clutching her breasts with his hands with gentle greediness, finding, to his surprise, that they fitted his grip quite nicely. Were they bigger or smaller, they would ruin this firm, perfect shape.

All of this seemed sudden to him and he wondered if he could catch up. But the young woman was yielding, looking at him warmly with half-opened eyes. He felt a small pang of regret upon discovering he wasn't her first man, in fact, but couldn't blame her either. Who would have thought things would go in this direction?

They made love several times that night. She liked the familiar feeling of his wild hair between her fingers. Hasn't changed much, she thought. And his inevitable stubble, scratching her face. Not romantic whatsoever. But still endearing. She had never thought it would end up like this, always being so anxious about how the two men felt about her. Always on the verge of leaving her, always living in that fear, even when their actions reassured her. Her heart had chosen Mugen long ago and Jin was aware of it, always trying to push him in her direction. Though he was a bit dense to appreciate it, Fuu was thinking further. At fifteen, she hadn't known much, but felt nevertheless jealous of them going to brothels. Especially _him_, who had been the annoying one. She smiled into his neck, nestled there comfortably, and fell asleep.

* * *

There was this incident, as he liked to name it, when he saw Fuu being intimate with Jin. He went mad with jealousy. It was the day after he first slept with her. They were sitting rather too close for his liking, on the hilltop overlooking Edo. At night. When, in fact, they were talking about this and that. Jin felt proud of five years younger Fuu, and learned to appreciate her opinion more, now that she had matured. This was their first time being alone in a long while, and they felt like updating each other properly on everything that had been happening in between. When asked what happened to the girl he liked, Jin decided to tell her the whole story.

"The brothel somehow stole her from the shelter, held her there, but some good people returned her to the shelter and the security tightened around her. Shortly after, she died of gonorrhea." was what he said in a solemn voice only he could manage. This pained Fuu, who touched his hands that lay in his lap. This is what Mugen saw.

" That's terrible, Jin." was all she could manage to say. Life was so frail, people's feelings wavering. There was no place one could feel secure, was what she felt at that moment. Locked, imprisoned. Deep inside she hoped they would all stop wandering and find something permanent.

"It is alright" he replied. "People come and people go. Imagine what would happen to me if I mourned all the people I killed." and it sounded very reasonable. After that they talked no more, and simply stared at the starry night. Mugen felt like joining them, laughing his jealousy off like it was nothing, getting accustomed to the feelings he had just discovered. Draping the arm around her shoulders, he stared up at the clear skies.

In the end, the couple decided to travel together, but Jin said he had to go in another direction. This was partly because he did not want to make them feel uncomfortable in his presence. He was thinking about the fear Fuu had told him about. About uncertainty toward Mugen and her, the permanence of their relationship, since it could never go back to being friendship once they parted,_ if_ they parted. All of them had a life changing effect on each other, this thing they held precious, and the balance became more precarious than ever. But seeing them goof around like always, bickering and mocking each other reassured him, and he smiled contentedly. This silly couple was in love in a very clumsy way, but for now, he mused, they would be fine.

* * *

**The End**

**Author's Note:**Errors will be corrected later. It seems a bit rushed, but oh well.


End file.
